When Mechanics Get Guns
by Michael Harrington
Summary: A Short story featuring an RPG character who spent the night installing a set of upgrades on a blaster pistol for his boss. Enjoy.


Keth was just finishing putting the finishing touches on his bunk, which included what most militaries referred to as "hospital" corners when his comlink beeped softly at him. Raising an eyebrow, he picked it up and opened the channel.

"Yes?"

"Keth, it's Vexxer, would you mind stopping by my quarters for a moment? And bring your toolkit."

"Ummm, sure. Let me finish tidying up here, and I'll be right up. Is there any reason you didn't just come down the hall?"

The sardonic tone of the reply carried even through the comlink.

"Well, when you're the captain, you can answer the questions of your entirely too curious crew members."

He grinned, though he was going to expedite heading over to the new Captain's quarters.

"I'll be right there. Keth out."

Closing the comlink back up, Keth locked his footlocker and opened the hatch to the main hallway. Looking around, the rest of the crew was either dirtside or sleeping, so he made his way towards the Captain's room and knocked once, softly. The sounds of the hatch being unlocked from the inside spoke once again to Keth of the paranoid nature of their new boss. As soon as it was open, he was motioned inside, and complied with the unspoken invitation.

Once inside, Keth took the room in at a glance, his eyes lingering for a moment on the objects laying on the desk on the far side of the room. He stifled his curiosity, though and met the Faleen's eyes.

"What can I do for you, boss?"

"I need some work done to my pistol, but I need it kept quiet. You've been generous with your help, and you made quick work of the door on Bimmissari. I have need of your impressive mechanics skills now, for a project of mine. I'm hoping you'll have it done before we ship out again, as I'd hate to have to go out unarmed." The reptilian motioned with the grace of his species towards the desk. "Go ahead, have a look."

As Keth took the few steps necessary to cross the cabin, something that had been bugging him finally jumped into his consciousness. There were absolutely no decorations of any kind in the room. Either this new captain was a being of few possessions, or he wasn't about to let any of his crew see any of his belongings. Talk about paranoid. Keeping his observation to himself, he concentrated on the components on the desk: A blaster pistol, well used and clean, an electro-gauntlet with associated pieces and a rapid recycler. Both eyebrows rose in surprise as he took in the various pieces. Looking up at the other sentient, he spoke with a wry grin.

"Oh, is that all?"

When the Faleen simply regarded him with eyes bearing no humor, his grin slipped a bit.

"Yeah, I can do that. It won't be entirely cheap, nor will be it ready in a couple of hours. This is close to a full night's work, at least. I'll let you know how it goes."

Vexxer nodded, and gestured for Keth to pick take the components with him. Gathering them up and setting them in various pockets to keep them from view, Keth headed for the ship's workbench. It was the middle of the Nar Shadda night anyway, and pretty much everyone was either out drinking or sleeping, though he wasn't all that tired as he had rested rather well on the flight back, due mainly to the injuries he had taken during their trek into the Bimm countryside.

Sitting down, he turned on the small but powerful lamp and set down his toolkit and started pulling out components.

Several hours later, Keth finished up the modifications to the pistol that Vexxer had asked him to make, and with more than a bit of pride. It had taken a bit of effort, but by the Cloak of Sith, this was one bad-ass pistol. He hefted it, feeling the balance. It felt good. Damn good. Slapping a fully charged power pack into the slot and pulling on the gloves that he had rigged for the electro-grapple handle, he smiled grimly at the fact that he had left the markings on the pistol as "Safe, Stun, Kill," which could lead most law enforcement officials to believe Vexxer was more benign than the average Falleen. Their loss. Shrugging, he replaced his tools back in their appropriate places in his tool kit and powered down the work bench. He started making his way back towards the cabin Vexxer had claimed, but paused by the ramp down into the cargo bay. What the hell, why not?

Taking the ramp down, he glanced back towards the back of the mostly empty bay and the tent the ancient droid had set up. He shook his head. Why in space did the sithspit droid have a damn tent? Palming the panel, the ramp lowered with a hiss of hydraulics to land with the small clink of starship durasteel on permacrete. Stepping out into the cool night air, the sounds-and smells- of Nar Shadda washed over him, and he took in a breath. It was rare, but he had to admit there were times that the lights and sounds of a planet-city like this appealed to him more than the prairies and savannahs of his own world. His hand tightened on the new grip of the pistol as his thoughts turned to his home world. Bastards.

Shaking his head and moving his mind back to current matters, he checked to make sure the blaster was set on stun before heading out. He was pretty sure there was something around here he could test this thing on. And he found it as soon as he rounded the corner.

"Ootah Gootah?"

Okay, he wasn't expecting it quite _that_ quickly. Whatever. The Rodian was radiating more than a bit of smugness at having caught Keth unawares, which, Keth had to admit, he had been thinking about some other things. His rifle was still slung across his back, and the pistol was in his holster. He knew a shakedown when he saw one. But there was definitely something the Rodian didn't know. For one, the electro-grapple handle on the pistol. For another, the rapid recycler in same said pistol. Keth raised his hands like the cornered victim he was supposed to be. When the Rodian gestured with its own pistol, Keth got a better look at it as the neon lights from the multitude of signs overhead glinted off its surface. It was so old it would probably fall apart after the first shot. Regardless, this was what he was here to try out.

Moving slowly, and under the supposedly watchful gaze of his assailant, Keth set the pistol down on the ground, then unslung his rifle and set it down next to the pistol. Backing up a couple of steps while trying to keep a scared look on his face, he followed the green-skinned aliens gestured instructions to back up even further before the Rodian went for the weapons greedily. As it took its eyes off him, Keth's expression dropped and was replaced by a savage grin. He made a beckoning motion with his right hand, the movement activating the field produced by the glove's energy cell. The pistol flew across the short distance just before the Rodian's hand closed on it, and it looked up in surprise--straight into Keth's unwavering aim and death's head smile.

"You picked the wrong mark, friend. Goodbye."

He pulled the trigger, and was rewarded with the staccato stutter of a blaster in full autofire. The Rodian's body fell back, missing the vast majority of its head and smoking from multiple holes where its face used to be.

Not wasting any time, Keth quickly retrieved his rifle and holstered the pistol before frisking the Rodian. He was slightly disgusted, though not surprised, to find nothing of real value on the creature's body. He hooked both arms under the corpse's armpits and dragged it to the edge of the walkway. Looking over to make sure there wasn't another walkway immediately below the one he was on, he dumped the body over the edge of the skyway and trotted back to the ship.

Palming open the hatchway, he looked up as he heard Mag before he saw him. Waving at Mag as the human came around the corner, Keth observed that the human was decidedly...inebriated. He waited until the lone human of the crew was on board before closing the hatch and headed towards the workbench. Stripping the pistol quickly, he cleaned it to remove the smell of burnt Tibanna gas and re-assembled the pistol before swapping the newly depleted power pack with one that was freshly recharged. He then removed the gloves and stowed them in a pocket after flipping the selector to safe. This done, he removed his own pistol from beneath the workbench and holstered it. Carrying Vexxer's pistol, he made sure the doors throughout the common area were closed and there was no one in the corridor before knocking softly, once, on the Captain's hatch. It opened quickly, and Keth stepped in at a motion from Vexxer. Flipping the pistol over in his hand, he handed the pistol to the Falleen grip-first, saying, "There's a fresh pack in the well. Safety's on, and the stun setting is attached to the rapid recycler. Oh, and here's the gloves. Everything works as advertised. You've got yourself one deuce of a pistol there, Cap."

Vexxer examined the pistol closely, not saying anything until he was finished. Looking up at Keth, he nodded, but apparently the work didn't quite deserve a smile. Keth wondered idly what [i]would[/i] bring a smile from the Falleen.

"You've done well. Thank you. You may go."

Keth nodded as he backed up a couple of steps and turned to open the door, half expecting a blaster bolt to the back. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as he closed the hatch behind him and heard it lock from the other side. Heading back to his own bunk, Keth locked the door before stripping to his skivvies and laying down, his mind still racing with thoughts of what he was going to do with his own stash of credits.


End file.
